


A Lover's Spat

by Megg33k



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-18
Updated: 2012-08-18
Packaged: 2017-11-12 09:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megg33k/pseuds/Megg33k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angsty!Sherlock gets his feelings hurt after John says something a bit not good... with a nice, fluffy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lover's Spat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DanglingThpider](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanglingThpider/gifts).



> A quick one-shot for a friend who wanted a very specific scenario... I suppose this was my first quasi-request fic.

John stood in the doorway watching as Sherlock rolled his eyes with his mobile pressed against his ear. The detective’s arms were crossed at his chest as he paced the floor, obviously frustrated with whatever was coming from the other end of the line.

“Yes, I understand,” he finally huffed into the phone, “I just don’t feel like I can take your case at this time.” He paused, only half-listening to the voice coming through the speaker. “Yes, well, I’m sorry too. I’m sure everything will work out for you in the end. Goodbye.” He ended the call and laid the phone face-down on the table. Shaking his head at John, he was clearly looking for some sympathy.

“What now? A kitten up a tree? A lost dog?” John asked.

“I wish. At least that’s interesting,” Sherlock replied. “Missing boyfriend.”

John drew his head back, surprised. “Since when isn’t a missing boyfriend interesting?”

“Since ever,” the detective sighed. “They argued, she stormed out, and now he’s not returning her calls or answering his door. I don’t investigate break ups.”

“And you’re so certain it’s just a break up?”

“Obviously. She says she still loves him and there must be more to his ‘disappearance.’ I just don’t understa-“

“Of course you don’t. You wouldn’t, would you?”

Sherlock spun on his heels to face John. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You? Sentiment? Love? I’m not sure what I expected. I’ve certainly known you long enough to know better.”

Sherlock’s gaze dropped to the floor, his lips drawn in pensively. “Is that what you think of me? After all this time? After everything we’ve been through? You still believe I know nothing of love?”

“Oh, Sherlock.” John glared, annoyed. “I believe… I believe you love in the only way you know how.”

“So, you don’t believe I love even you then?”

John shrugged. “In the way normal people love one another? No, I suppose I don’t.”

“Normal people.” Sherlock slumped into his chair, legs crossed. His eyes were narrowed and misty as he rested his chin against his fist. “I expect the ‘freak’ comments from Sally, but from you John? Really?”

“Stop sulking,” the Army doctor snapped. “You know what I mean.”

“No, John, I don’t.”

“Well, would you look at that? The simple, stupid blogger stumps the great Sherlock Holmes,” John mocked.

Sherlock rose effortlessly, gracefully from his seat and grasped the neck of his violin. He pressed his chin against the chin rest and drew his bow once across the taut strings. He fingered a few chords but couldn’t concentrate. The proverbial knife protruding from his heart which, though reliably informed otherwise, certainly did exist, as it was currently aching within his chest. He and John had long surpassed the mark of flatmates or colleagues or even friends. It was months ago that they had become lovers, and Sherlock had allowed himself to believe they shared rather deep feelings for one another. Until mere moments ago, he would have unhesitatingly called it love. Now though? “Yes, I suppose so,” he said, choking on the words as tears stung at the corners of his eyes.

Completely unaccustomed to the strained tone of Sherlock’s voice, John was all too aware something was wrong. “Are… Are you okay?” He moved toward his partner, his mocking smile fading into concern.

“Fine. Absolutely fine.” Sherlock turned away.

John’s hand rested softly on his lover’s shoulder, trying to gingerly coax Sherlock to face him. “Hey, I didn’t mean…” He trailed off.

The hurt detective glanced back over his shoulder, though not quite enough to make eye contact. “Didn’t mean what?” His voice continued to falter.

“Didn’t mean to-” John stepped in front of Sherlock, the air being pulled from his lungs as he saw the pain on his lover’s face. His words caught in his throat as he gasped for air. “Oh, god, Sherlock… I didn’t mean anything by it. What’s wrong?”

Sherlock’s arms fell limp at his sides, the string instrument still tightly clasped in his fist. “Sentiment, I suppose?”

John took the violin from Sherlock’s grasp, laid it safely aside, and placed the crestfallen man on the sofa. He eked out the only words he could. “I’m so, so sorry.”  
Sherlock hung his head, a single tear rolling down his cheek. “I- I’ve done everything I can think of to show you how I feel. I went so far as faking my death so you might live, and I’ve risked my life just to return to you. I never once doubted that I loved you… not until now. So, tell me, John… If that’s not love, what is it?”

“That’s what I mean, Sherlock. That… None of that is normal. Normal isn’t faking your own death. Normal is taking someone out or buying them flowers.”

“Flowers? A night out? Is that what you want, what you need? I can do-“

“No. NO. Never.” John placed his hands on either side of Sherlock’s face, his thumbs stroking the ridge of the man’s magnificent cheekbones. In fact, they were the first thing about Sherlock to intrigue John. Before the deductions or evidence of his warrior’s heart… long before John knew of his gentle touch as a lover… those cheekbones drew him in, fascinated him. Their foreheads met as John continued. “You can’t love as a normal person does, because you’re not normal… You’re extraordinary.”

Sherlock drew back a few inches. “You’re only saying that because you feel you’ve hurt me emotionally.”

“You’re brilliant. You know you’re brilliant, right?”

Unable to argue, Sherlock nodded timidly in agreement.

John gazed deeply into Sherlock’s eyes, those eyes that seemed to hold all the secrets of the universe. “Deduce me, Sherlock. Deduce me right now, whatever you need to do.” He paused, waiting for the detective to ready his game face.

Sherlock’s finger’s slipped to the pulse point on John’s wrist as he studied all the minute details of his partner.

Having spent so long with the man, John knew he was ready. He knew when the mask was firmly in place. Never breaking eye contact, he continued, “You are extraordinary. The way you love is extraordinary. We will never be normal, because normal isn’t good enough for us. We’re epic. This story, our story, will go down in history. I know exactly how deeply and completely and purely you love. The only thing I don’t know is what I possibly did to deserve it.”

Sherlock breathed in sharply, punctuating the end of John’s speech. Everything about the man who knelt in front of him screamed that he was being sincere. “Because you…” He stopped and considered the question. “You are everything I’m not.”

John’s thumb traced the deep bow of his lover’s upper lip, agonizing to feel those lips pressed to his once again. His heart ached and his body cried out for the man he loved, the man he had hurt so profoundly. As he looked at Sherlock’s cracked façade, he was reminded once again that the detective was nowhere near as cold and unfeeling as he would have the outside world believe, and he was honored to know he may be the only person who was privileged enough to know the real man behind popped collar. “Sherlock, I lo-“

Unable to wait any longer for John to make a move, Sherlock darted in for a long-overdue kiss. His lips cradled John’s, his hands clasped behind his lover’s neck.

John relaxed into the kiss, nipping amorously at the detective’s bottom lip, and allowed his fingers to tangle themselves in Sherlock’s dark curls.

Before the kiss could deepen and things might get… out of hand… Sherlock pulled back. “I’ve never cared what anyone thought of me, John. Most people are stupid. You’re different though. Love is absolutely a disadvantage, but I can’t seem to reason my way out of it. I do love you, John.”

“I know you do, Sherlock. I love you too.”


End file.
